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Thursday, 30 May 2013

My special guest today is the lovely Rosanna Leo. She is a fellow LSB author and has some amazing stories out there. Today however she is going to tell us a little bit about her new book Predators' Kiss!

"Ah, The Great Outdoors.!

Thanks so much to Layne for allowing me to play here today!

You are most welcome Rosanna!

I’m here to introduce you to my newest paranormal erotic romance Predator’s Kiss, the first novel in a hot new series set in the Ontario wilderness.

Now the setting poses a problem right away. You see, my heroine Lia is, uh, well…how shall I put it? She’s afraid of animals. And considering the main dude in the book is Ryland Snow, a rugged bear shifter, we have some conflict built in already.

Perhaps I took a perverse pleasure in placing Lia in the great outdoors. You see, I was never much of an outdoorsy girl myself. I went to Girl Guide camp and pretty much hated every moment of it, aside from the eating and the pranks. And now, I’m no different. If you give me the choice of camping in the bear-infested woods and staying at the Hilton, the Hilton would win every time.

Of course, I was never presented with an ornery, but rugged bear shifter like Ryland. He’s stubborn and suspicious and darkly mysterious…but the man is hot! Pretty soon, Lia begins to wonder if she should slap on the bug repellent for good and join Ryland in his woodsy haven.

I think, if I’d met him, I might do the same thing. I hope you get a chance to read Predator’s Kiss and I really hope you enjoy it!

Blurb:

Bear shifter Ryland Snow just wants peace.
The peace and quiet afforded him at his woodsy retreat, the Ursa Fishing Lodge.
As owner of the lodge, Ryland enjoys the tranquil life he’s created among his
fellow shifters. He lives to maintain a safe haven for them, away from
meddlesome human eyes.

When his rock star brother arrives,
bringing trouble in the form of a possible hitman, Ryland is incensed. He’s
been cleaning up Soren’s messes as long as he can remember, and is tired of his
brother’s lecherous exploits.

Things go from bad to worse when Lia
Goodblood stumbles upon Ryland and his lodge. Yes, the reclusive erotica author
is easy on the eyes, but the human woman is more trouble than she’s worth. To
say nothing of her bizarre fear of furry creatures.

Ryland determines to rid himself of her
presence. But when he learns she’s on the run from a crazed fan, Ryland’s
protective bear instincts flare. And the bear won’t be denied.

Excerpt:

She was already reviving a few minutes
later. Ryland let out a sigh of relief.

Thank God. When he’d first seen the petite
woman hurtling through the trees, he’d worried someone was after her. But no
one else had barreled behind her. And yet she’d seemed so scared.

They hadn’t helped, presenting her with a
couple of snarling bears.

She moaned a little, and the soft sound
warmed him, making him hard again. Damn. He glanced around the room, remembered
he didn’t exactly tend to stash clothes in guest cabins, and raced for the
bathroom. He grabbed a couple of clean towels off the rack and tossed one to
Soren. “Cover yourself.”

Soren grinned like a devil and motioned to
his nude bottom half. “I can conduct my flirting business much more efficiently
this way.”

Ryland glared as he wrapped his lower half
in the towel. “Cover yourself or I’ll strangle you with it, lover boy.”

His brother placed the woman’s backpack on
the floor and threw the towel about his waist. “Such animosity is really not in
keeping with your sainthood, Brother Ryland.”

Ryland ignored him and turned back to the
woman. He didn’t know why it mattered so much she recover and feel comfortable
in his presence, but it did. Of course, as owner of the lodge, it made sense he
didn’t want to see anyone scared or hurt.

Yeah.
That’s it. That’s all.

His rationalization did nothing to quell
the nervous tremors in his gut, though. Or his excruciating hard-on.

Okay,
she’s sorta pretty and has a body made for sin. So what? Get over yourself.

Clearly
it had been too long since he’d allowed himself to get lost in a woman’s
body for more than a quick fuck. And this woman’s body deserved slow, leisurely
loving. Greedy licks. Sensual tugs. Why, her breasts alone were so full and
perfect, they just begged one to suck. To say nothing of those rounded hips and
soft, womanly ass.

Ryland ran a hand over his face, feeling
overly hot. Jesus Christ. Stop thinking
like a horny teenager. You sound like Carter.

Besides, she was nothing like him. Human.
And if time had taught him anything, it was the pursuit of romance with a
nonshifter was a fool’s errand. She didn’t belong here on his resort, on his
island. He needed to revive her and get her out of there.

Desperate to relieve the sudden, raging
desire shooting up through his body, Ryland forced himself to look away from
the woman. In doing so, he caught a glimpse of his brother. Soren was sitting
next to her, his gaze contemplative, his eyes trained on her boobs. Ryland
realized he didn’t like the way baby brother was looking at her. “Hey.”

Soren looked up. “What?”

“What are you staring at?”

Without batting an eye, Soren turned back
to their unexpected guest. “Her. Can’t I stare?”

Ryland’s eyebrows shot up. “Staring at
women has already gotten you into trouble. Maybe you should find a new hobby.”
He stifled the low growl building in his throat. Now wasn’t the time for
brawling, but he didn’t appreciate the way his brother gawked. His cool eye,
appraising, as if he’d never seen anything like her before.

“You were checking her out too,” Soren
replied.

“No, I wasn’t. I’m not interested in this …
person,” Ryland retorted. As he uttered the words, he bit his tongue hard by
mistake, as if confirming the words were a lie. “Damn,” he whispered, tasting
blood.

“Do you think someone was chasing her?”
Soren asked in a pensive tone, picking up one of his drumsticks and stroking it
as if it were a lover’s finger.

“I don’t know.” Ryland sat on the other
side of her small body and looked her up and down as she lay under the covers.
Despite his mistrust of humans, he couldn’t help wondering who would frighten
such a tiny, delicate thing. Had someone tried to hurt her? The very idea made
him want to bash his head against the wall. Or better yet, bash any lowlife who
dared to touch her.

No
one touches her but me, his heart declared.

What?

As another stress headache shot through his
brain, he wondered at the ferocity and lunacy of the feeling.

Rosanna Leo is a multi-published, erotic
romance author with Liquid Silver Books. Her books include For the Love of a God, Up In Flames, Sweet Hell, The Selkie, Sunburn
and her newest Predator’s Kiss. When
not writing, she can be found haunting dusty library stacks or planning her
next star-crossed love affair.

Thursday, 23 May 2013

Fellow
author Sofia Grey, is here today to talk about Getting In the Mood … and Her First Time at Faking It! Mmm intriguing!

My First
Time… at Faking It

Having
difficulty getting in the mood? No, not like that. No self respecting romance
writer would ever admit to that, after all, we all have perfect sex
lives. Right?

That’s a
whole other story, so moving swiftly on, I’m talking about faking the mood for writing.
In my case, trying to write a story set not only in the middle of winter, but
during a blizzard, when it was the height of summer for me. I had to work
really hard to put myself into a shivery-snow-bound frame of mind when every
time I looked out of the window, the sun dazzled me. The closest thing to snow
came in the form of crushed ice in my margaritas. Tricky, huh?

I had to
bury myself in winter-set books, watch The Day After Tomorrow several
times and keep my laptop and iPod stocked with images of snowy mountains and
forests. By the time I’d got half way through, I was so immersed in my
characters that I didn’t need my external mood-setting, but damn. Those early
chapters were hard work.

I’m doing
it again now. Somehow, I’m out of synch again. The second in the Snowdonia
Wolves series takes place in the middle of a long, hot summer. Sounds easy,
but for me, it’s rapidly approaching winter. It’s dark when I leave for my
office job, and dark when I get home. Cocoa has replaced chilled Sauvignon, and
my t-shirts are now covered in several fluffy layers! Thankfully, as my
characters develop and become real in my head, the story gets easier to write,
but for now I’m having to surround myself with images of sunshine and sand, and
once more, fake my mood.

Do you beat
the chills with a summery book, or match your reading to your season?

Some of the
winter books that worked for me were:

-The
Bronze Horseman (Paullina Simons) – set in the frozen siege of Leningrad

-North
of Need (Laura Kaye) – Snow God Owen comes to life

Likewise, I
really need some recommendations for hot summer romances. Which books do you
think I should be looking at?

To whet
your appetite for winter, here’s a snippet:

*

The dog moved to sit at her feet, gazing up at her with
his strange blue eyes. Eyes the same color as Jake in her dreams. “I guess you
need to go out, eh?” She dropped to her knees and hugged him, burying her face
in the thick fur of his neck. “You kept me lovely and warm, thank you. I hope
you find your way home okay.” He whined softly, and she released him.

“Come on then.” She stood and moved toward the tiny
hallway, the dog at her heels. She could feel the cold before she even opened
the door, and she gasped when she saw how much snow had fallen during the
night. Flakes whirled and danced before her and her bare feet were chilled
already.

She nudged at the dog. “Go on, boy, don’t you need to
go out?” He slunk down the path, disappearing from view after just a few steps.
Snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and Lillian scrubbed a hand over her face.
Should she keep the door open for him? Would he leave? Damn. She hadn’t checked his bandage. She was just about to close
the door again when he burst out of the gloom and ran back into the house, a
trail of wet paw prints in his wake. Feeling absurdly pleased, she hurried
after him and found him sitting in front of the fireplace, a strangely
expectant look on his face.

She reached down to fondle his ears. They felt cold and damp
and she wiped her fingers against her robe before stuffing her hands in her
pockets. “I feel stupid, calling you Doggy all the time.” His eyes reminded her
of the man in her dreams, but it would be crazy to call him Jake. “I’m going to
call you Wolfie. You look like a wolf.”

About Author

Romance author Sofia Grey spends her days managing projects in the
corporate world and her nights hanging out with wolf shifters and alpha males.
She devours pretty much anything in the fiction line, but she prefers her
romances to be hot, and her heroes to have hidden depths. When writing, she
enjoys peeling back the layers to expose her characters’ flaws and always
makes them work hard for their happy endings.

Thursday, 16 May 2013

Dy lives and writes in Adelaide, South Australia. Her partner is a great cook and doesn’t mind when she forgets to eat dinner (much). She has a 10 year old daughter who inhales chocolate and looks like Twiggy; shares a house with two dogs, two cats, a naughty but loveable parrot and several fish.

Her background is in classics, anthropology and social work and she spent much of her childhood travelling throughout south-east Asia and the south Pacific, learning about other cultures.

Her days are spent writing, spending time with family and friends, freelance editing and chatting with crit buddies. If she’s not on the computer you can find her reading, daydreaming, drawing, haunting antiquarian bookshops or working on her latest novel.

Dy has a MA in Creative Writing from Adelaide University and is a graduate of the Odyssey Science Fiction Fantasy Workshop 2012.

Illusion:

A spell addicted female whose art burns holes in the fabric of reality falls for the warrior warlock sent to kill her. Are they a match made in Heaven or Hell?

Blurb:

Maya McAdam has never quite fit in, even on Earth where the magical elite sells alchemy on the black market. She has wild visions of conveyer belts turning into snakes and draws surrealistic pictures of places she’s never been. Partying and tossing back spells seems like a good way of avoiding her problems.

A week before her twenty-fifth birthday, her surrealist paintings finally sell. When a scarred stranger watches her from behind one of her sketches, she knows life is going to hell.

Maya would never have imagined she’s the daughter of a cursed king, and a bargaining tool for magical guilds. Will she fight demons and give up a desire for spells so she can find love with a warlock? Or will she leave her friends and become the nightmare the magical elite fears?

Excerpt:

Maya ran out of the bathroom and jerked to a stop, shocked.

An ultraviolet mist filled the room. Huge sparks of static and miniature lightning bolts zapped across the ceiling. Resh had removed his shirt and stood with his sword on his back in the middle of the circle. It had become a swirling vortex beneath his feet. Sweat beaded his forehead, his body slick with sweat and layered with slabs of muscle. He had one hand raised as if controlling the fury.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Wind funneled from the maelstrom, clutching Maya's hair and slicing across her face. The skin between her shoulder blades tingled.

The eye had disappeared. But the room now leaned at an odd angle to the right, making her want to tilt her head in response.

"My God, it's beautiful." She shuddered, prickles of heat running up her spine.

"Don't be afraid." He held his other hand out to her.

With a deep breath, she threw on her backpack, stepped across the threshold of the circle, and placed her hand in his hot clasp. She was leaving home. Tears blurred her sight and she tightened her grip, feeling his rough calluses beneath her fingers.

Immediately the smell of blood and ozone filled her senses. Her stomach hollowed, like she'd been punched and she gasped.

"Don't let go of my hand. If the ritual stops before reconstruction, one or both of us will be destroyed. If we arrive in different places, head for the fort. Ask for Alexandr. I'll find you." He leaned over her shoulder, stuffing something into the pocket of her leather backpack.

She opened her mouth to ask how she'd find this fort, and why they might get separated but thunder boomed and the floor shook. Her heart rate accelerated.

"We need to go." He shouted above the raging mass of sound, his eyes weirdly opaque and glassy.

The floor burned through the soles of her boots. She shifted her feet.

"It will be fine." Something gentle brushed the top of her head. The room darkened and she spun her head in time to see the glass window shattering.

A massive white bolt of lightning sliced through the air, sending a shock wave of electricity through the apartment. The circle lit up with a wash of blue-green eddies. The colors unwrapped, expanded and surged toward them. The electrical charge stung her skin and her hair frizzled, the acrid smell burning her nostrils.

Energy particles separated and lifted around her, and she heard a low bell-like tone. She felt herself being pulled toward the sound. Her bones twisted and contorted in excruciating agony for long seconds. Then the room disappeared and she fell, tasting rich blood on her tongue.

Sunday, 5 May 2013

It's my pleasure to have fellow LSB author Rhonda L. Print as my guest today. Welcome Rhonda. And good luck with your new book out today!

Rhonda L. Print, the Author of several published paranormal romance novels, has 20 years of experience as a romance reader.Her work includes the five star reviewed novel Nightwalker, A Leah Wolfe SINS Novel, The Order of Chaos, Justified and Guardian . Her latest release, PHOENIX will be available in May, 2013.

Born and raised in the Midwest, she relocated to the desert southwest and lives her husband who is the love of her life and best friend, and their three children.

She loves to hear from her readers. You can leave a comment and read the first chapter of all of her published books free by clicking on the cover picture at www.RhondaLPrint.com Her books are available for purchase at www.LSBooks.com

Blurb: Leah Wolfe of the Supernatural Investigations of Non-human Species—SINS for short—is learning to control her necromancer skills while balancing her life as a federal agent and fiancée to the Marquis of the vampire world, Ian Nightwalker.

When her godson is kidnapped and the kidnapper offers to trade the boy for Leah, she doesn’t hesitate.

Leah finds herself in the lair of Phoenix, a former Marquis bent on avenging the death of his lover. He is also a scientist who is using DNA from various species with the hopes of creating an army of Supernaturals.

Leah must stop Phoenix, save those he has tampered with, and get back to Ian.

But first, she must save herself.

Excerpt:

Shifting, I trailed my mouth down his neck, teasing his chest and then sliding lower, where I confirmed that Ian was, indeed, naked, hard, and eager for me. Ian lowered his lips to mine and our tongues tangled together. Short, slow licks quickly smoldered into white-hot desire as we made love to each other’s bodies with our lips and tongues.

He pushed me away from him and I released him with a reluctant groan until he flipped me on my back and wrapped my legs around his shoulders. With his eyes fixed on mine, he slid his tongue out and gave me one long, torturing lick. I gasped, and he flashed me that crooked smile of his and did it again.

“I love to watch your eyes glaze over in ecstasy while I devour you, my love,” he crooned before tasting me once again.

I fisted my hands into the silky strands of his hair and lost all sense of sanity as he tormented my body with long, slow swirls of his skillful tongue. When I thought I could take no more, he slipped his tongue inside me and suckled on my center until I could only see white bursts of pleasure through my closed eyelids. My head thrashed from side to side. His pace relaxed and the slower he slid in and out of me, the more intense the pleasure became that shuddered through me until my body burst with rapture and insanity all at once. I screamed his name with my release, but Ian kept his mouth in place, drinking down my pleasure—as if it were the blood he existed upon.